


Pandora

by Schuyler



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Female Ryan Ross, Female Spencer Smith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 05:16:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schuyler/pseuds/Schuyler





	Pandora

Spencer hated the fall. Starting in mid-August, Cooper Street, the lovely walk from the loft to her office through the gay district, became clogged with students fresh from Midwestern farms and the Bible Belt and god-only-knows where else, drinking coffee and flirting and getting in Spencer’s way. They were all just so excited to be who they were, but did they have to do it in the middle of the sidewalk?

The upshot was that, on Saturday mornings, the students were still sleeping off Friday night and Spencer felt like she had the whole world to herself. It was just cool enough to wear her new corduroy blazer and she treated herself to a cup of coffee at the bakery across the street before she headed up to Pandora’s Books.

Spencer had absolutely nowhere to be, so she browsed, checking out the latest issues of nearly every magazine and the display of new books. She’d been there over an hour by the time she finally made it to the register. Greta, the owner of Pandora’s, had lost two employees to graduation the previous spring and hadn’t tried too hard to fill the vacancy until the new students arrived. Greta much preferred to get freshmen and mold them to her will. The girl sitting behind the counter was surely one of those acquisitions. She was small and slight, with short, glossy brown hair held back by a kerchief. She bit her lower lip as she intently read Greta’s well-worn copy of Patience and Sarah. She was, unfortunately, adorable.

Spencer cleared her throat and the girl looked up, instantly apologetic and a little embarrassed. She slid down from her stool and began ringing up Spencer’s magazines. “You must be this year’s freshman.”

The girl smiled, sudden and drop-dead gorgeous. “I guess I am.”

“I’m Spencer Smith.” Spencer thrust her hand out over the counter and the girl grasped it without hesitation.

“Ryan Ross. Nice to meet you.”

 

 

Spencer couldn’t draw. She was excellent at drafting and achieved a level of elegance in her spec renderings that frequently led clients to choose her firm, but she couldn’t actually draw. She realized this when trying to doodle Ryan on the corner of her notepad. The image of Ryan had somehow stuck in her brain all week, and Spencer had absolutely forbidden herself from going to Pandora’s again, cruising for a freshman. At least not unless she had something specific to buy. Luckily, their local alternative weekly came out on Wednesdays, so she could stop by on her way home from work.

She’d worried a little that Ryan wouldn’t be there, but when Spencer came through the door into the little shop, there was Ryan, reading a hardcover book with a highlighter clenched between her teeth. Spencer grabbed a copy of the Trader before she realized her mistake. The Trader was free. She had no reason to go up and talk to Ryan. Ryan sucked at the end of her pen, blissfully unaware. She had a really pretty mouth. Spencer grabbed a copy of The Advocate and went to the counter. “Hey.”

Ryan looked up and smiled. “Hey, Spencer.” Her eyes trailed down Spencer’s body. “That’s a really nice suit.”

“Thanks.” Spencer concentrated on not blushing while Ryan rang up the magazine.

“What do you do that you get all dressed up like that?”

"I'm an architect." Spencer said as she pulled out her wallet. “I had a presentation today.”

“Did it go well?” Ryan asked, and she sounded like she really cared.

“It did, actually. I’m pleased.” Ryan took Spencer’s $10 bill and made change. “What do you do? Or, I guess, what’s your major?” It was a really stupid question to ask because girls like Ryan were always majoring in women’s studies or something equally stereotypical.

“Native American Studies.”

Spencer smiled. “That’s a new major, isn’t it?”

Ryan nodded. “Yup, but the faculty is excellent.” She gave Spencer a coy little smile. “I did my research.”

Spencer let herself linger a few minutes longer.

 

 

Spencer ended up cooking dinner for Brendon that night. He’d crossed the hall from his apartment and pouted through the peephole until she let him in. She made him promise to trim her bangs in exchange for pasta primavera. “Have you been by Pandora’s lately?” she asked as casually as she could while dishing up pasta.

Brendon shook his head and fished out a pea with his fingers. “Stopped going so much when that gorgeous tall boy graduated.”

Spencer sat down with her own plate. “Greta’s got a new girl working there. Ryan.” She cleared her throat and focused on the movement of her fork.

Brendon just gasped softly. “Spencer! Look at you! Finally ready to get back on the horse." Spencer didn’t know how to respond.

Brendon hadn’t believed Christine when she’d started complaining to everyone in town about the horrible way Spencer treated her. He’d been the one to let Spencer know that Chris was lying for attention’s sake and the one to rinse the wound with hydrogen peroxide when Christine had clawed into Spencer’s arm during their breakup fight. He’d also rushed across the hall as soon as he’d heard shattering. Spencer had let Christine know in no uncertain terms that she needed to clear out by Sunday and Spencer hadn’t left the loft since, making sure Chris didn’t steal everything she owned out of spite. Brendon was surprised that Spencer was standing in the doorway, completely calm, as Christine screamed and raged. “What the hell is going on?” Brendon had asked when Spencer held her arm out to keep him from going in.

“I told Chris that I’d like to keep the dishes.” Christine was taking each plate down from the cupboard and smashing it on the stone floor.

“You fucking controlling bitch,” Chris snarled.

“Aren’t you going to stop her?” Brendon asked, but Spencer just shook her head.

“I just want her gone.”

That had been two years ago, and Spencer hadn’t gone on a single date since Christine left.

 

 

Ryan had learned the value of packing a ziplock bag when going to receptions and readings before the end of her first week of college. That her pilfered oatmeal cookies had provided an excuse to chat with Greta was just a bonus. Greta pulled another cookie from the bag and chewed happily.

“Hey, Greta?” Ryan asked, trying her hardest to sound more adult about this than she felt. “Do you know Spencer Smith?”

Greta nodded and swallowed. “Spencer’s awesome. She’s been coming around here forever.”

“She’s an architect, right?”

“Yeah.”

Ryan looked down and broke her cookie in half. “That’s cool.” She wanted Greta to keep talking, but she didn’t know what to ask.

Greta reached for the bag. “She dated an employee of mine a few years back and it ended so extremely badly. Promise me you’ll be careful with her.”

Ryan looked up, a little stunned. She wasn’t quite expecting to be on this end of the admonition. Everyone always assumed that eighteen meant stupid and easily taken. But Greta seemed to be worried that Ryan could hurt awesome, adult, gorgeous Spencer. Ryan just nodded and bit into her cookie.

 

 

Ryan saw Spencer two more times (she stayed longer each time and that had to be a good sign, right?) before she met Brendon. He set his books down on the counter and stuck his hand across it. “You must be Ryan. I’m Brendon.”

Ryan tried not to look startled and politely shook his hand. “How do you know who I am?” she asked.

“Spencer told me about you,” he said with a teasing smile.

She looked down quickly to hide her rising blush. “She talks about me?” Ryan asked, hoping she didn’t sound completely pathetic.

Brendon nodded with an affirmative sound while Ryan rang up his purchase and broke into an uncontrollable grin.

 

 

“You should ask her out on a date.” At least this time, when Brendon had invited himself over, he’d brought ice cream.

“Hmm?” Spencer asked, pulling the spoon from her mouth. She’d been staring absently at the television.

“Ryan. She seems adorable. You should take her out.”

“Well, I can’t,” Spencer said, preparing her usual list of objections about why she couldn’t approach this woman or that and mentally adding Ryan’s age to the list.

Brendon held a hand up in front of her face and pointedly looked away. “I am done with your excuses, Spence. She’s cute and she likes you. You should take her out.” Spencer just frowned at him and Brendon dropped his hand, his voice softening. “Yes, I know it was a bad breakup, but it was a long time ago. If it makes you feel better, this one seems a lot less likely to turn out to be a psychotic bitch.”

Spencer smiled. It did make her feel a little better.

 

 

“So,” Spencer said casually and Ryan chose that moment to look up at her. She was really hoping that that wouldn’t happen. Ryan had a way of looking up through her bangs that made her look even younger. Spencer plowed on. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me this weekend.”

“Like dinner or something?” Ryan asked. Spencer couldn’t quite tell if she sounded disgusted.

“Yeah,” Spencer replied.

Ryan smiled suddenly, gorgeous and shy. “Sure. Sounds nice.” Spencer looked right at Ryan when she smiled.

 

 

Things had happened, Spencer knew, but she couldn’t figure out just which of their many slow and easy motions had led to Ryan sitting in a corner of the windowseat in Spencer’s loft, eating the last of the ice cream Brendon had abandoned and watching cars pass by. They’d gone someplace nice but not fancy and Spencer had been relieved that she still found Ryan interesting in actual conversation. She dipped her spoon into the bowl and tried not to stare at Ryan.

“It’s getting late,” Ryan said softly. “I should go.”

But she didn’t.


End file.
